Dark Hole
by trunks111
Summary: Sequel to "Light and Dark". Slash. ButtersWendyl(Wendy). Warnings: Swearing, self-harm. Butters is slowly spiraling out of control, but he doesn't care. Truth is, he doesn't care about much anymore. His parents dont know what to do, he isn't like he was before. Can anyone drag him out of the dark hole that's threatening to swallow him?
1. After

Weeks passed, his funeral happened. Everyone was crying, except for Butters. He sat in his black suit, next to Wendyl, who was openly crying. He said very little, his friends spoke about him, and more tears ensued. Still, Butters didn't shed a single tear for Raven.  
He didn't feel anything.  
A counselor had been appointed to the school, everyone was required to go, it being a small town. He said nothing to the woman, though she generally seemed to care, but Butters just sat there, not saying a word. Eventually, she allowed him to return to class, a sad look on her face.  
He got himself a job, in construction, like Raven had had. The work was hard, physical, but he enjoyed it. After work, he would go sit at Tweek Bros, gazing across at the Goth kids that were always there. Raven's old friends. He idly wondered if they noticed him staring, even if they did, they never mentioned it to him. Though he wanted to talk to them, he wasn't sure where to begin. It wasn't like he blamed them, like some people in town did, he just wanted to talk to them about Raven. Maybe, to become their friend too.

For now, he still waited to approach them, instead spending most of his time working. He was rarely home, if his parents were worried, he didn't notice. With the money he made, he bought hair dye, new clothes, and was working on getting tattoos and paying someone to buy him alcohol.  
He dyed his hair black, messily spiked it, and changed his wardrobe to clothes more like what Raven had worn, black jeans and shirts, the occasional Edgar Allen Poe reference.  
He got his license and drove himself to Denver to get his tattoos, the place did good work and looked the other way as he was still underage, he paid them well and they didn't ask questions. He cried as they worked, but they didn't mention that either. Both his upper arms had half-sleeves now. He planned on more once he got out of highschool.  
Eventually, three months later, he worked up the courage to join the Goth kids in their booth. They said nothing, Henrietta scooted over to allow him room. They sat in somber silence, sipping their coffee. He drank his black, just like they mostly did.  
Firckle was the first to speak.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you guys. Maybe, become your friend."

"I thought you thought we were a bunch of pussies?" Firckle spat.

"Nah..., I was a kid then. I've grown up. I think I see the world how you do now. All of this shit, and no one does a damned thing about it. Fucking conformist bastards," the last word a growl, Butters promptly shut his mouth and looked away, radiating anger.

Firckle looked ready to spew more but Pete lightly laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

Michael chose then to speak up, "If you'd like then, you're more than welcome to join us. Clearly, you're not one of them any more."

Butters barely inclined his head to let them know he had heard.  
Slowly, their conversation started up again, and Butters listened, offering little.  
Eventually, they dispersed, and he walked home with his hands jammed into the pocket of his hoody. He wondered what he could do, he had a six pack of alcohol waiting for him in his room. With a small smile, he walked a little faster.  
As usual his parents were waiting for him, but his smile vanished and he ignored them, going straight to his room. He took his boots off and then his hoody, tossing it on to his computer chair. With the door locked, he stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. It was slightly cold, but he didn't mind. He strode to the closet and dug around in the corner, finally, he came away with the six pack. He took one out and sat on his bed, he drank as he read a thick novel by one of his favorite authors in recent times.  
He felt like he was on fire from the inside, but he didn't mind, a smile on his lips as he continued to read. He had work tomorrow, but he could sleep this off in like six hours and then be fine to go. Too soon or was it too late? He didn't know or care, but he was out of alcohol and had to piss. He put the bookmark in his book and set it on the nightstand before getting up. He swayed unsteadily a moment before going to the bathroom down the hall.  
The house was quiet, and so he attempted to be too. He collapsed on to his bed, barely noting the time as being just passed five. He checked that his alarm would go off and then promptly, passed out.

Too soon, he heard his alarm. He turned it off and found clean clothes. With them in his arms, he walked to the bathroom, a quick shower and a breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, Butters grabbed his lunch bag from the fridge and drove to the parking lot designated for their cars only.  
He had a slight hangover, but nothing he wasn't used to after a night like that. But he didn't let himself think about that, instead he crossed to the site and set his lunch with the others and got his assignment for the day.  
He got teased pretty regularly, but he was quickly becoming one of them, more muscular, good at the easy work. When he worked, he could forget.  
Not that he tried to remember, but the memories would surface anyway. He never cried over the memories, but over tats, he did. He was considering getting a few piercings too. His job didn't mind piercings or tattoos and he figured he could just do construction while he went to college, if he went.  
As he worked, he contemplated what piercings he wanted. He toyed with different ideas, dismissing some, gradually accepting others as possibilities. He wouldn't be able to go back to Denver until next week, so he had plenty of time to decide.

The work day ended and he drove home, going to shower before finding himself dinner and then going to Tweek Bros. He slid into the booth with the Goths and sipped his coffee, listening to their conversation and adding a little, here and there. He noticed a few changed among the group, Pete had gotten spider bites, Firckle was sporting snake bites, Henrietta had gotten herself angel bites, and Michael had two eye brow rings over his left eyebrow. He raised an eyebrow at them and Pete explained, "In memory of Raven. He had always wanted to get piercings but couldn't decide what he wanted."  
Butters immediately looked down at the table and said nothing more, leaving earlier than usual. He arrived home and his parents were quietly watching tv. He dimly heard his father demand to know where he'd been.  
"Out," was all he offered, before going back up the stairs.

He sat on his bed, holding the little pamphlet from the funeral, a picture of a smiling Raven on it. He gazed at it sadly, his thumb lightly rubbing over the picture. He felt the tears welling up, but he held them back. He wouldn't cry. Not for him. He didn't want him to cry for him. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, gazing at that picture, but eventually, he must have fallen asleep because he awoke the next morning, having been tucked in, like when he was little, the little pamphlet back where it usually sat. He sat up, his chest heavy. He sat there a while, before remembering he had work that day, earlier than usual. He checked his phone, it needed charged but he still had a couple of hours. He plugged it in and then laid back down, his arms folded behind his head.


	2. Changes

'Some days, I still can't believe he's gone,' Wendyl thought as he sat, rather bored, in English. 'It's been months, since that morning. And I still can't quite believe this all hasn't been some sort of sick dream. But I know, I know it's not. He's gone.'  
Tears sprang into his eyes. Hurriedly, he blinked them away. There were still days that Raven's old friend's would burst into tears, in the middle of class. They would be excused, because, it was a small town, they'd all grown up together.  
As always happened, his thoughts turned darker, 'Maybe I could have stopped him. I knew he was feeling bad. I knew it was worse than he let on. Than anyone knew! I... I knew. I saw his scars. How... How could I have been so blind?'

He stopped himself. It did no good to think like that. What was done, was done. His friend was gone. For all his self-control though, he still couldn't make himself stop wondering about the what-if's.  
Before he knew it, it was lunch time though, and he packed his things in a slight daze, still thinking about what could have been.

"Hey," a subdued, slightly deep voice broke into his thoughts.

He looked up sharply, Kenny was pretty tall now, not as tall as Kyle, but taller than him.  
"Hey," he echoed, walking to the cafeteria.

"It's not your fault. Or if it is, it's also mine. Cause I knew too. I wasn't completely sure, but I knew."

As usual, it was like Kenny was reading his mind and Wendyl was able to not look quite as shocked as he felt.  
"Do you think we could have changed his mind?"

Kenny was silent as they traversed the lunch line and sat at their usual table with Cartman, Kyle, Clyde, Bebe, Tweek, and Red.  
"No. I don't think so. I think, he would have just resented us for interfering. He would have tried regardless."

Wendyl stared at his lunch tray. He didn't feel like eating, considering the subject matter. Since he was disinclined to eat, he gazed around the lunchroom. They'd all changed so much. None moreso, than Butters. Especially in recent times. He used to be so happy, so innocent. And now...  
He gazed at the now black haired teenager, the edges of tattoos poking out from the sleeves of his equally black t-shirt. He was sitting with the goth kids. Butters hadn't cried at the funeral. He hadn't voluntarily seen the grief counselor either. He heard, that he was working construction and generally disobeying his parents. He wasn't at all the sweet boy he'd been before. He was becoming someone else. It was a drastic change. Not just like Raven, he was a cynic, he fit better with the Goth kids than he ever really had with Kenny, Kyle, and Cartman.

Truth be told, Wendyl was worried about him. Kenny followed his gaze.  
"You're worried about him."

"Of course."

Kenny tilted his head to the side as if listening to something or perhaps thinking, but he said nothing more.

Finally, Wendyl tore his gaze away and managed to eat his now slightly cold lunch. They walked back to class together, though neither said much, Wendyl attempted to focus on class and not feel guilty. All the while, a small voice in his mind telling him to watch out for Butters. If he couldn't have saved Raven, maybe he could still save Butters. He couldn't help but retort at the voice, "But what if he doesn't want to be saved?"  
"Are you willing to take that risk?"

He had no answer for that. Besides, he didn't really have proof Butters felt anything like Raven had. Death, changes people.  
It wasn't like they were terribly close or anything. They had been more friends by association and even then, barely. But still... Wendyl debated with himself for the rest of the school day and as he worked at Benny's that night. Sometimes, he was the server for the goth kids, mostly because the one woman who usually served them had gotten tired of seeing them and taking them fresh coffee.  
They came in that night, including Butters. He took their orders, which consisted simply of their usual, black coffee. He stole a glance at Butters. He looked..., mostly fine, perhaps tired though. His eyes had the lines of sleeplessness beneath them.

He couldn't linger though, he had tons of tables to wipe down and then to sweep the front and back. Again, he tried unsuccessfully, to push Butters from his mind. But the Stotches' were worried about their son, Kenny was worried. And fuck, he was worried too. Butters had _always_ been the happiest, brightest person in all of South Park. And now..., it was like someone stole his light. Butters just didn't seem like _Butters_ anymore.  
He wanted to talk to him but he had no idea how to broach the subject. It wasn't like they spoke regularly, even before Raven..., went off the deep end. They had, had classes together, worked together a few times. But..., they hadn't really spoken since Butters had come out as gay. Not too long before, he too, had come out. Finally, his shift ended and he drove home, the Goth kids left roughly twenty minutes before that, like usual. He showered when he got home before changing into his sleeping clothes. He checked Facebook on his phone, scrolling the the largely uninteresting stories on his feed. He came across something Butters had been tagged in by Michael and sighed.  
'Oh Butters...'


	3. Remembering

Alone, Butters reflected on his life. He had never really fit in, anywhere. When they were younger, he was constantly picked on. When he came out, he was isolated further. Sure, he had a few friends, Wendyl, Raven, Kenny, and Clyde to an extent. But he had never felt like he belonged anywhere.  
Now however, he felt differently. Ever since he had first sat with them. Michael, Pete, Firckle, and Henrietta. He felt like he belonged there. They accepted him. They liked him and enjoyed his company. For some reason though, he was afraid of enjoying it. Of getting attached to them.  
He got out a notebook and began writing a poem, he probably wouldn't share it, but they encouraged him to write and share something he found meaningful.

'Community

A sense of community...,  
I never knew what that meant.  
I never understood what it could mean.  
At the same time,  
I want it,  
But I'm afraid of it.  
Losing what I never had?  
Is there truly anything to lose?  
Or is it the fear of gaining?  
Don't we want to belong?  
Or have I strayed so far,  
I can never fit there again?'

Yeah..., he definitely wasn't going to share that. But it raised valid points. As much as he wanted to be a part of their group, he was terrified to do so. They were his friends, they actually understood him. They understood when no one else did. They agreed that a part of them had died with Raven. So why couldn't he accept their acceptance? He finally belonged somewhere, but he couldn't believe it.  
He pulled himself from the dark path his thoughts were going down. He had work soon. He stuffed the notebook back into his backpack and then went about finding clothes for the day.  
Dressed and fed, Butters drove to work, trying hard not to let any thoughts of Raven creep in.  
It seemed, he couldn't help it, and as he worked, memories of the black-haired boy played in his head.

'" _It's okay Butters, I don't care if you're gay," eleven year old Raven told him with a smile._

 _Butters blushed, spluttering, "Th-that's not what I was saying!"_

 _"No, Butters, it's really okay dude. I don't care."_

 _"Aw..., w-well thank you..."'_

 _'"Come on!" fourteen year old Raven yelled over his shoulder, a grin on his face as he ran to the frozen pond._

 _It was rare, but the goth kids had all decided to go ice skating with most of the other teens and pre-teens._

 _Butters watched as Raven skated, easily besting Pete in a little race that ended with Pete laying on his back and muttering.  
Raven just laughed and said, "Oh come on! Lighten up just a little. We got out of school for the day."_

 _Butters smiled as he watched them, he wanted so badly to be a part of that, of something like that. But..., he skated alone, watching friends and couples as they happily enjoyed each other.'_

 _'"This is something long overdue," Raven started, his hands going into his pockets._

 _"Though what I'm giving you, you're not to read it, until three days from today. Okay?"_

 _Butters nodded, he would never do something like that._

 _Raven handed him an envelope that simply said "Butters" in his slanting handwriting._

 _Butters put it in his coat pocket with a grin. "W-well, that's not all is it?"_

 _Raven chuckled, "No, Butters, it's not."_

 _"Oh good," he grinned._

 _"This..., this is what was overdue. Butters, I like you, in the way that through that simple liking, my feelings grew much deeper. And well.., you see, Butters, I love you."_

 _Butters stood there, his cheeks aflame, as Raven's eyes fell down to stare at the snow covered ground._

 _"Y-you..., wait..., You're serious Raven?"_

 _Raven took a deep breath, "Yeah Butters. I don't joke about such serious stuff."_

 _"Oh..., all right then." And he fell silent once more._

 _As the silence stretched, Raven spoke, "It's all right if you don't feel like that towards me, I just thought I should tell you. I mean..., I had been pretty sure before, but a few events in more recent times, soldified my feelings."_

 _Butters still didn't say anything and the silence stretched further.  
Raven sighed.'_

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. If he had known what that letter had contained... If he had known what Raven had been up to...  
It felt like a clawed hand had grasped his heart and was squeezing it, trying to rip it from his chest.  
'Raven...,' he thought desolately.

It always came back to that last..., the last time he had seen him alive. That moment, he had confessed his feelings and given his suicide note.  
'He knew me so well,' Butters thought bitterly. 'He knew, I wouldn't open it. He knew I would wait, because he asked me to.'  
A sob tried to escape his throat but he turned it into a hard cough, his throat feeling raw from the force. He looked sheepishly at the other guys and they rolled their eyes at him and told him not to get them sick. He laughed shakily with them, glad the day was over in a few more minutes.

He drove home, going straight up the stairs and to his room for a change of clothes before darting into the bathroom. He shed his clothes and turned the shower on to as hot as he could stand before stepping in.  
Dressed once more, Butters went to his room and sat at his computer. He didn't turn it on, instead, he stared at the black screen, occasionally focusing on his reflection.  
'Raven... Would you recognize me? Would I be this way if you hadn't gone? If I had been this way before you took that step, would you not have? Would we have taken it together? Would we have been together? Oh Raven...'

He shut his eyes tightly, forcing down the tears and the sobs. He wasn't going to cry for him. He wasn't.


	4. Accusations

He had made the decision last night, he was going to talk to Butters before he left. He had to, he couldn't just sit by and let Butters walk down the same path Raven had. The school day was unbearably long, it seemed. The two hours before his shift started, even longer than that. But finally, he went into work, the goth kids and Butters, already there. He served them coffee and cleaned up as usual, the hours still dragging, his heart dropping as he heard snippets of conversation. Something he heard Butters reading to them was what really fortified his resolve to talk to him.

'It feels like I'm losing pieces of self.  
Like soon,  
There won't be anything left.  
Meeting new people,  
Being captivated by their collective energy,  
The way everything feels right around them...,  
It's wonderful,  
Nut terrifying.  
Like I was lost,  
But then found the brightest light.  
A downfall is coming,  
I can feel it.  
I'll forget,  
The dark will crash.  
And all the pieces will shatter...'

'Oh Butters...,' he thought sadly, finishing that table and moving on to the next one, their voices fading mostly.

The hours continued to drag by, but finally, Butters was actually the last to leave that night. Wendyl called out to him, and at first, he wasn't sure the boy was going to stop, but he did, only half turning.  
"What Wendyl?" his voice was cold, flat.

It honestly felt like his heart cracked to hear his voice like that, but he pushed on. This needed to be done. And the sooner, the better.  
"Butters...," he fumbled for words for a moment, while he knew this needed to be said, he was still unsure of what exactly could be said.

"You know you're not alone right? That there are people that care deeply for you. That..., I'm here for you."

Butters scoffed, "Yeah, right Wendyl. Whatever you say man."

"I'm serious Butters!" His tone indignant, "I don't want you to go down the same path Raven did! I couldn't save him, but I can still save you!"

Butters turned fully around, his eyes wide, like something just clicked.  
"Y...You! You could... You could have saved him?! That..., that means you knew. You had some idea! You knew he was planning something. And yet, you did nothing! You let him die!"  
He had strode forward, anger radiating from him, his face inches from Wendyl's own.

Wendyl fumbled for words, his doubts rushed to the surface, Butters' accusations hitting their mark dead on.

"I fucking knew it you bastard! Raven..., he fucking loved you! He loved you! And then, you broke his fucking heart! You! You caused all of this! If you had never broken up with him, he never would have started hanging out with them! He never would have slipped so far into the dark! He never would have died!"  
Abruptly, Butters spun around and shaking, he walked away, the door flung open so hard it creaked dangerously.

He collapsed there, to his knees, his legs unable to support him anymore.  
'Do people really think that? But..., it's true... He joined them after I broke up with him...'  
Tears spilled down his cheeks, as he sat there, clutching his chest.

He made himself get up, finishing his shift mechanically, texting Kenny to come over as soon as he was able. Kenny was always the voice of reason.  
Once home, he barely said a word to his parents, but it was obvious to them that something was bothering their son. He shut the door and changed his clothes into sleepwear, a baggy shirt and flannel pants.  
He laid on his bed, Butters' words circling in his head, warm tears streaked from his eyes but he paid them no heed.

Kenny was there suddenly, the concern etched into his features.  
"What happened?" he asked quietly, sitting beside his friend, his blue eyes overflowing with concern.

"Butters," Wendyl croaked, his voice cracked from crying.

"He..., he blames me for Raven's death. He said that if I had never broken up with Raven, that he would still be alive. Oh god Kenny," he sobbed, curling into a ball, clutching Kenny's arm as the blond sat there rigidly, anger burning fiercely.

Quietly, he responded, "He's wrong Wendyl. You aren't to blame. No one is. If you are, then so am I, he came and apologized a day or so before he died. I felt like there was something off about it, but I didn't question him or press the issue. Raven's actions were his own. No one is to be blamed for this. There is no blame to place."

Wendyl wanted so badly to believe him, but still, the doubts had found purchase and weren't going to be so easily dislodged.  
Nevertheless, he smiled weakly, "Thanks Kenny."

"Any time," he replied with a small smile before he got up, going to go back out the window.

"Leaving already?" Wendyl tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, he had hoped Kenny would stay a while with him, sometimes he did.

"There's something I have to do," Kenny replied evasively, not looking at him.

And then he was gone and Wendyl was alone in his room. He laid there, quietly, gazing at nothing in particular.  
'Dammit Butters... No... You said what you felt... It's not your fault... Not really... I'm sure you're not the only one that blames me. Despite what Kenny said, I still feel like it was at least a little my fault. Because Butters, you're right, my breaking up with him is what originally sparked his joining them. God, Butters, I... I loved him too... Just not that way... Not like you did.  
Yeah, I knew that he'd had feelings for my boyfriend, even if neither of them knew it then, never considering being anything but heterosexual at that time. But we grew up, we changed. Raven..., changed the most. God Raven...'

And just like that, more tears began to fall.  
He really had loved him..., just not like that...


	5. Apologies

Butters had stormed up the stairs to his room. His parents glanced at each other worriedly, usually Butters didn't slam things, even since he had changed.  
He paced his room, still seething with rage. It felt good, to be angry, rather than desolate. Maybe Wendyl hadn't deserved that, but he didn't care. Shit, he felt better now.

He squashed the feelings of regret before they could take hold. Wendyl was still well-liked, people rarely yelled at him, except for Cartman, and even he'd laid off after he got his ass kicked back in elementary. He tried to hold onto the anger, but it was quickly slipping away.  
Something knocked on his room window. He spun to face it, surprised to see Kenny of all people hanging on to the sill. He crossed the room and opened it, the orange clothed teen all but falling into the room.  
Butters went back to pacing, in a smaller path though.

Kenny stood, watching Butters with cold blue eyes.

The blond regarded the black haired male, he'd changed so drastically... But that did not excuse what he had done. What he'd said. To Wendyl!

"Butters." His voice came out calm, cold.

The black haired male stopped his pacing, turning to him.

"You had no right to say that to Wendyl! He's been grieving for months! He loved Raven too! And you, you fucking asshole! You know it wasn't Wendyl's fault! Raven acted alone. He put an end to his misery. And you..., you're just sullying his memory! I know you haven't shed a single tear for him. You're the only one who hasn't. He was your friend. I always thought you had a heart. But I guess I was wrong. Stay the fuck away from Wendyl. Or I will fucking kick your ass."

And with that, Kenny turned and climbed back out the window.

Butters fell to his knees. His eyes welling with tears. The weight of what he'd done, of what he'd said, was finally hitting him. Kenny was right, Wendyl sure as hell didn't deserve that. And Butters hadn't cried for Raven because Raven had told him not to...  
But..., unbidden, tears streamed from his eyes as sobs wracked his body. He hugged his knees to his chest as he cried, all the pent up sorrow, rage, and unrequited love, pouring out. He had finally realized his feelings, but he had been too late. He could have, maybe, saved Raven. If only he had acted sooner... If he'd read the damned letter...  
His tears continued, as he tried to return his breathing to normal, but it was no use, his breath kept hitching with sobs and he finally gave in. Letting himself cry for the boy who had told him not to.

'If you're up there Raven, or wherever you are, if you can hear me, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I'm crying for you, I'm sorry I never stopped to talk to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there... I'm just so sorry...'

Butters sat there a while longer, trying to make sure the tears had stopped completely. He scrubbed at his face with his hands, the tears having dried. He stood, going tot he bathroom where he washed his face and stared at his reflection.  
In truth, he didn't really look in mirrors anymore. The boy that stared back didn't look like him at all. His eyes were dark, haunted. His hair was messy and black. His shoulders had more definition, his arms looked more fit to be a football players than his.  
He exhaled slowly, his reflection mimicking his movements. He barely recognized himself anymore. Would Raven still love him if he saw him now?  
Sighing, he exited the bathroom and found his coat. It was late, but he needed to talk to Wendyl.  
To apologize...

He walked the cold, short distance, trying to organize his thoughts enough to put into words just how badly he had fucked up. He ran a hand through his hair before knocking on the door.  
Her father answered the door in a couple of minutes.

"Hey, uh..., I'd like to talk to Wendyl. I know it's late, but ... this really can't wait."

"Would this have anything to do with the reason he's upset?" Her father asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Butters looked away, scratching the back of his head.  
"Y-yeah."

He stared hard at the boy, he looked almost like that little blond fellow, Butters, but ... It couldn't be him, could it?  
Nevertheless, he stood aside and the boy jogged up the stairs, muttering his thanks.

He went to Wendyl's door, knocking gently.  
"Go away."

His voice sounded thick. Like he'd been crying.  
"Please Wendyl."

He listened, hearing nothing he sighed and twisted the knob. It turned and he slowly pushed the door open. Wendyl was laying on his bed, his back to the door.

"I told you to go away," he muttered, still not facing him.

"Not until I do what I came to do," Butters replied, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.  
It was going to be harder than he thought...

He took a deep breath before he began, "I was wrong. It wasn't your fault. If it was, it was as much as mine. He gave me his suicide note three days before. And told me not to open it before the third day. If I would have opened it, I could have told someone, stopped him. So if anything..., it's my fault... I just..., I loved him too, but I didn't realize it... And..., fuck Wendyl, I'm so sorry... I never..., I never meant to be this way... I don't even know myself anymore. And I think..., I think you knew that, and that's why you said what you did, and then I lashed out at you instead of taking your fucking advice. God, Wendyl, I'm just so sorry."

At some point during his speech, tears had begun to slip down his cheeks, and his gaze had dropped to the floor. With his vision blurred by tears, he didn't notice Wendyl was standing in front of him. He did notice however, when Wendyl wrapped his arms around the taller male and hugged him tightly. At first, Butters didn't move, but then he extracted his arms from beneath Wendyl's and hugged him back just as tightly. He could feel Wendyl's sobs as they wracked his frame. More tears slipped from his eyes, though he tried to stop them. He wasn't supposed to cry...

Minutes passed with neither saying a word.  
Eventually though, still embracing, Butters broke the silence.  
"You know, the reason I haven't cried..., is because he told me not to cry for him. That was one of the last lines in his note."

"God Butters..., that was such a cruel thing for him to say... I mean..., I know he meant well for it but...," Wendyl didn't say anymore, burying his face into Butters's shoulder.

They stayed that way for a while longer, the silence stretching, but it wasn't uncomfortable, the tension between them had dissolved.  
Eventually Butters muttered that he should probably get home, since they had school in the morning.

He took a step back and Wendyl opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, his face turning a bright red. Butters looked at him questioningly, his head tilted to the side, but Wendyl just shook his head and turned around. Butters was really curious but too tired to question him. Maybe he would later. He left Wendyl's, hurrying home. He changed quickly before falling exhausted, into bed. For once..., he didn't dream about Raven...


	6. It Gets Better

Weeks passeed, Butters and Wendyl grew closer. Butters was finally starting to feel better, he only dreamnt about Raven once or twice a week, rather than every night. Wendyl just seemed to have that effect on him. So much so, that when his hair started to fade, he didn't redye it. He started dressing in more gray and black, rather than straight black. It seemed, the darkness that had consumed him since Raven's death was receding somewhat. The thought would still cross his mind, to join Raven. He still missed him.

He hung out with the goth kids less and less, spending more time with Wendyl, working harder at his job and school. Somehow, he had begun to see hope for himself. He didn't have to stay in South Park. He could leave, be someone. With Wendyl's help, he applied to numerous colleges, signed up for the SAT and ACT. They spent every weekend studying together, quizzing each other. Wendyl was smarter, but that didn't deter him.

Eventually, Butters found the courage to ask him out. Wendyl accepted.  
The dark hole that had threatened to swallow him was dissipating. Once more, his life was filled with light. With Wendyl and Kenny's help, he had gotten better. He had dragged himself out of the dark hole.

His thoughts turned darkly, if only someone had done the same for Raven...  
He shook himself, no good could come from thinking that way. What was done was done. He could only live for the days to come, not the past.

Life could get better, it seemed. With time and maybe a person or two to help you along the way.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Wendyl looking at him expectantly.  
Butters blushed and took Wendyl's offered hand.  
Butters got out of that dark hole and vowed never to return.


End file.
